


a combination of one circumstance and the next

by pseudocitrus



Series: Red Child AU [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gap Filler, Gen, Mild Gore, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocitrus/pseuds/pseudocitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of small Tokyo Ghoul things from my tumblr!</p><p>Recent fics:</p><p>* Hairu takes pictures at photo booths with Ui.<br/>* Arima attends Eto's first autograph session.<br/>* Urie cuts Saiko's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "TG:re ch19.5" (Sasaki/Touka)

**Author's Note:**

> i've been posting these now and then on my Tumblr and decided to collect them all together.
> 
> enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> done for an anon's prompt on tumblr:
>
>> If (more like when!) Touka and Sasaki kiss, how do yo think it'll happen? Same for Ayato and Hinami (I smell that romance from a mile away)
> 
> so, since chapter 19 is the last thing that came out... 

After the Auction operation, Sasaki ends up injured and in the hospital dizzy with painkillers and RC suppressants. He fades in and out of consciousness, in and out of old memories and places and people whose names are just on the tip of his tongue. One face in particular stays longer than the others, and desperately he _reaches_ —

— and feels his hand settle on something soft and warm.

“ _Long time no see._ ”

He stops breathing. She turns her head to nestle it against his palm, and then sets it back down on his lap, and goes over to set a basket of flowers on his bedside table. She starts to leave, and stops when he musters all his energy to grab her hand. He’s halfway sitting up, and panting with effort. But his grip is weak, and she easily extricates herself from it.

“D-don’t go,” he says breathlessly, but she just pushes him back down on the bed. Her beautifulsad smile gets closer; she presses her lips against his. It’s the barest contact, but enough to stop his heart. she stands again, and this time he lacks too much strength to pull her back. He’s fading out again already.

But he hears her last whisper: “ _I’ll see you later_.”

:::

After the operation, Ayato carries Hina far away, as far as he can. He’s as close to crying as he’s ever been since he was young, but this time there isn’t an older sister around to soak up his fears. Hina had been clutching him to keep from falling, but now her arms are dangling limply, and blood is streaming down each finger.

When he finally finds a safe place, he sets her down, as gently as possible. He wrenches her mask off over her head, and yanks his own mask down, and he calls her name — “Hina, Hina, Hina, _Hina_ ” — until her eyes crack open, black.

“S-sorry,” she coughs, but he shakes his head, cutting her off.

“N-no, don’t — just — just h-hang in there,” he begs. “I’ll — I’ll find you something —”

But she’s slumping. “S-sorry, Ayato,” she murmurs again. “I w-was weak after all.”

He’s stricken. “H-Hina, I didn’t — I’m sorry that I ever — I _n-never meant_ —”

This time he is the one that’s interrupted; she’s hooked her hand around his mask and pulled him down, roughly. Their mouths meet, and then press, desperately. Then Hina shudders and shoves him away to cough blood on the ground.

“D-don’t blame Nii-san, okay?” she whispers. “It’s n-not his fault. He…he didn’t…”

Her voice fades. This time a tear does force itself out of his eye, and pools into a one of his mask’s lenses. He makes a strangled noise and lifts his arm to his teeth and tears it open, and then holds it to her mouth until she eats.


	2. "Recruiting Centipede" (Sasaki, and Arima and Akira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arima and Akira try to make a quinque from Centipede.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written as a breather between projects.

Arima (and everyone else) thinks Centipede is dead, until he has it on the table and is working with Akira and others on unspooling the kakuja from the muscles of its back. Then, against all odds, the ghoul begins to move, and everyone stops and looks at each other, disturbed. It would be one thing if the ghoul woke up in a murderous rage, but it’s trembling and sobbing from the sockets of its eyes, which are filling in again in squirts of veins and nerves and quivery, filmy flesh. One of the eyes that returns is red, black. The other is red, and human.

After a while they realize that the whimpers coming out of its mouth are actually words.

It hurts...it hurts...

It continues chanting even after the cuts they’ve made purse shut and smooth into unmarked flesh.

It hurts...it hurts...

Arima shakes it.

What hurts? he asks, and the ghoul just curls up on the table, hands on its head, clenching so hard that white hairs are being yanked out and drift to the steel table.

Akira decides she needs to bite the bullet for all of them and unsheathes her quinque. In an instant she has it wrapped all around the ghoul’s throat, but before she yanks, Arima puts a hand on her shoulder. His eyes are narrowed. Something seems to occur to him. He yanks the ghoul’s hands down from its face. Looks it straight in its human eye.

Who are you? he asks, and the ghoul sobs, I don’t know, I don’t know. Please make it stop.

What hurts?

Everything. Everything. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t — I don’t want to eat anymore. I don’t want to…I don’t want to…

It’s in  _misery,_ Akira mutters.

Yes, Arima agrees. He is.

Still his hand prevents Akira’s arm from unleashing her quinque again.

We’ve lost a lot of investigators, Arima says, and Akira and the others stare at him with incomprehension, and then disbelief.

Are you  _joking?_ There’s — there’s no way —

And in fact the process at first does seem to be impossible. The part of Centipede that is still human is nothing more than a wisp, a shadow. It slips in and out of rages and is curls into a ball at the sight of bathroom tile. But Arima spouts things about “the good of the public,” and he and Akira take point. They give it food, sometimes stuffing it down its unwilling throat. They swaddle it in clothes, calmly giving it more when it rips them to shreds. They take it by the shoulders and coach it to take deep breaths when it begins to drift into darkness, even as it snarls at them, or weeps uncontrollably.

What’s your name? they demand. Remember. Pull yourself together. You can do this. It’s your body, take it, control it. You can do this.  _What is your name?_

And one day, finally, he gasps out: “Sasaki Haise.”


	3. "How Hikari met Kirishima Arata"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the parents of Touka and Ayato meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these headcanons assume that Yomo is the uncle of Touka and Ayato, and therefore the brother of Hikari, Touka/Ayato’s mother. no CWs.
> 
> hope that you're having a good day! enjoy!

Hikari is the one who takes notice of him first, scavenging for food. He doesn’t seem like the type of human that’ll be missed by anyone, so she decides to go after him.

When she attacks him, he’s startled, and doesn’t fight back. She wounds him enough to kill a normal human, and starts eating, and is shocked at how horrible it tastes. She looks at him with wide eyes, and only just now realizes that he is still alive.

“You’re a ghoul!”

He looks apologetic. “Ah...yes…”

She’s never attacked one of her own kind before and feels really embarrassed about it. She wipes her mouth and helps him to his feet.

“I-I’m really, really sorry...”

“It’s okay...please don’t worry about it.”

He has a really kind smile.

:::

She begins to feel like she’s seeing him here and there all the time. Hikari asks around about what type of kagune he has, but no one can give her an answer; no one has ever seen him fight or hunt.

Curious, she tails him. She discovers him collecting corpses, and pities him.

The next day she finds him and asks, “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

“What?” He seems astonished by the idea, and Hikari swallows, understanding belatedly that it’s probably really strange for a woman to be inviting a strange man into her house.

“It’s nothing weird — it’s just — y-you know — to make up for...for what I did to you. When we first met.”

He scratches his head, and then nods, and gives her that incredibly gentle smile again, one that says that he doesn’t find her strange at all.

“Okay,” he agrees, and she tells him the address, and then her name. He replies with his.

They stand there for longer than is necessary, shuffling their feet; and then bow hastily, and part.

:::

Kirishima Arata has a really — _humble_ — manner of dress, but it’s kind of refreshing after encountering so many ghouls in this ward with violent tendencies and ostentatious styles. Renji is bewildered and suspicious and secretly jealous of how his sister’s pity turns into curiosity and then delight for this stranger who basically admits that he’s too weak to do anything but eat garbage.

“That’s not weakness,” Hikari tells him. Her eye glitters. “I bet you'd be doing it too if you weren’t _sooo_ afraid of bugs.”

“Whatever,” he mutters.

:::

She’s right that he’s afraid of something, though, and Renji watches it happen with dismay that he is careful to conceal from her. Kirishima begins coming over for dinner all the time. He starts dressing nicely for her. He bakes her a cake for her birthday, which she is delighted to receive even if she can’t eat it. They coat it with hairspray and for a week it decorates their table, like a bouquet.

After a lifetime of watching his sister take care of him, he’s (begrudgingly) glad that someone seems invested in taking care of her.

“Of course you can,” he mumbles, when Kirishima asks. “But she’s my sister, you know. She’s my only family. So you better protect her.”

“I promise,” Kirishima says.

:::

There's no one to invite, really, so it’s a small wedding. Renji acquires wine that they can drink. They prop the marriage certificate up on the table, and pop the cork of the wine bottle, and make a toast wishing for the usual: a long life together, filled with happiness.


	4. "Red Child Epilogue" (Sasaki/Touka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plot summary of what happens after the end of my other Touka/Sasaki fic, "Red Child."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon (and various other people) asking for an ending to [Red Child](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195602%E2%80%9D):
>
>> I understand (or perhaps I think I do) why you ended Red Child the way you did, but since I'm one of those people who cannot stomach being left on a cliffhanger, what happens next?
> 
> i had some personal vague ideas for what would “happen next,” and decided to write them up! **this is really, really, really loosely written,** but if you’re one of the ones who was off-put by Red Child’s “cliffhanger,” i hope this puts you at ease. :)

Sasaki and Touka successfully defeat the Doves, and flee with Ken to the next ward, and the next, and the next — going so far that they’re in a ward that doesn’t even have a number. They lose their pursuit, but sustain a lot of damage. Touka collapses as soon as they get to shelter, bleeding from her midsection. Sasaki is absolutely panicked and offers his flesh/blood, still partially shocked that she’s a ghoul. She eats but only manages a couple bites before she passes out.

Alone now with Ken, Sasaki tries to calm down, and come to terms with the facts. He paces. He’s Kaneki Ken. (He looks at Ken, rocks him, thankful for his quiet.) He’s Kaneki Ken, and he’s Sasaki Haise. Memories are breaking, slowly. Seeping. Every time another penetrates he feels like he’s going to fall down.

There’s no way that the CCG will let them escape. There’s no way they can live in this city without being hunted down every day. He doesn’t know what to do.

Sasaki decides to take the risk and leave Touka and Ken alone for a while to take a walk. A ghoul attacks him, and he vents his frustrations by killing it, which he accomplishes easily despite the fact it’s a kakuja. (This ward has a very high ghoul population, so most ghouls here are kakuja.)

Sasaki brings the corpse back, and hesitates, and decides that he has to eat it himself, and then feed Touka with his own partially-human body, so that she doesn’t need to suffer. But she refuses to do it, because there will be some natural loss of nutrients, and because then Sasaki will be weakened and may not be able to protect them. She tells him to feed Ken instead, and struggles through eating the ghoul herself.

:::

As the days pass, they procure new clothes and hair dye (black for Sasaki and Ken, brown for Touka). They make friends with a human/ghoul group in the ward, who Sasaki saved and spared after fighting off a ghoul about to eat them. The humans are shocked that such a powerful ghoul can be kind. (Backstory: the humans had before had a relationship with an old ghoul who died and advised them how to make quinque to defend themselves, and defend his ghoul-child, who he left in the human’s care. But they’d always considered their group a special case.)

Trying to cheer her up, Sasaki tries to tell Touka about the human/ghoul group. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all just live together like that?” And Touka makes a smile for him and is like, “Yeah,” and he wipes the sweat of her brow and kisses her.

It’s a nice dream but the thing he wants the most is for her to be well. For whatever reason, Touka is not recovering, and Sasaki tries to hide his fear, and ends up killing more and more ghouls to try and sustain her, even as she vomits up the majority of what she eats. Word gets out that there’s a new character decimating ghouls in this ward. The CCG investigators descend, and…

The apartment is empty!

:::

(Aogiri Tree has already gotten there.)

(When they showed up, Sasaki tried to fight them off, and was about to succeed when Ken screamed and Touka suddenly rushes forward wildly. She tried to fight and only ended up tapping into her brand new kakuja kagune, which covers half her face and has one big horn like a rabbit’s ear. They capture/subdue her easily and Sasaki is forced to go peacefully with them.)

:::

At Aogiri, they meet Sen, who immediately is like, “You have a baby?” She’s shocked to see Ken, and even more startled when Ken looks back at her and shows off a kakugan. Ken is the only other naturally-born half-ghoul that she knows of.

Sasaki is like, “Please just let us go,” but is interrupted by Touka, whose kakuja kagune has receded. She’s drifting, and Sasaki grabs her before she falls. At this point Ayato and Hinami come by, at just the right time to see Touka begin to retch and throw up again.

:::

They get Touka to a bed, and after some time, Hinami deduces what no one else had realized: Touka is pregnant.

:::

Then Sen takes Touka and Ken hostage and says that she’ll free them if Sasaki runs one mission for Aogiri. Sasaki is like, Fine, fine, I’ll do it, but one mission turns into two, and three. Sen is delighted by Sasaki’s power and ends up using him to get rid of the other executives, and whoever else annoys her. He’s become their dog. He’s so exhausted of being used.

Even though Ayato and Hinami always keep watch of Touka, Sen has her own guards on Touka too. Touka slowly recovers as people bring her human meat to eat. Touka is Touka so the battle-hardened guards start getting soft to her, and to Ken, who is super cute and enamored of Hinami and starting to say words, which really delight the guards (who try and get him to say their name). They’re also envious of/inspired by the way Sasaki comes back from each mission and goes straight to her bedside. Sometimes Sasaki even brings back books and reads aloud to Touka and Ken. He sleeps beside them both and Touka shifts the blankets and her body around to hide the fact he’s crying in his sleep.

Touka thinks and thinks and decides that she needs to figure some way to escape. It would be easy, probably, if only she were just a little bit stronger.

:::

At some point Sen sends him off to eliminate the a certain group of troublemakers, who Sasaki belatedly realizes is the Qs Squad. Sasaki gets pissed and doesn’t kill them, but admits to them that he’s being manipulated, and then storms back and goes off on Sen about how he’s sick of being exploited. She just laughs and is like, “Okay, fine, last mission then: bring Arima to me.”

Sasaki is desperate for an end, so he goes to the CCG Main Office.

The CCG tries to kill him but Sasaki subdues all of them. Through cannibalization in the time he’s been away, he’s become a “full” kakuja and achieved control of his kakuja kagune, and ends up in Arima’s office, and Arima seems not surprised to see him. (It’s because he’s not. The Qs have already reported to him what’s up.)

At first Sasaki planned to take Arima over by force, but after seeing Arima-his-father-figure, Sasaki breaks down from stress and admits that Touka is pregnant again and he’s sorry but please, please, please can Arima help him.

Arima agrees because Sasaki is his treasured subordinate/son-figure, and because going will give him a good opportunity to kill Aogiri for good.

:::

Word spreads about the imminent showdown between Aogiri and the CCG (who of course are not going to let Arima go alone), and human and ghoul “civilians” start vacating the ward. Touka is heavily pregnant by this point and says wants to leave the Aogiri HQ before stuff gets down, so Ayato tries to distract the guards, and she tries to sneak away with Hinami. BUT! The guards discover them!

And then it turns out they’re Aogiri defectors, tired of Aogiri’s “live to fight!” thing, and they’re sympathetic to Touka/Sasaki, and just want peace. They start trying to help her get away to the un-numbered ward. The battle begins and when Aogiri ghouls discover the defectors, they try to kill them, and are defeated by the emergence of the human/ghoul bunch that Sasaki saved earlier, in the un-numbered ward.

:::

So the fight happens with one side trying to eliminate the other and when Sasaki tries to get into Touka’s room, he finds only the corpses of ghouls and signs of CCG investigators. Assuming the worst, he flips and starts killing everyone because he’s sick of the whole fucking world at this point, and after some massacre, the ghouls and the investigators gang up to take him down, since he’s attacking them all indiscriminately. Before they get him down for good, another ghoul swoops in to subdue Sasaki, and then defend him from further attack.

The ghoul is a kakuja, with two horns. It’s Touka, who has been secretly continuing to consume ghoul flesh and now is a full kakuja and super-powerful.

She drags a stunned Sasaki behind her, and announces that if anyone wants to stop fighting and come and live a normal life, they’re free to do so with “us/Anteiku/the un-numbered ward.”

Some CCG stop fighting; some Aogiri do too. Arima starts to stop fighting and Sen tries to get a hit on him but he counter-attacks at the last moment and pries her, naked, from her kakuja armor, and despite herself she is embarrassed, and after seeing that, he gets flustered too. They stop fighting.

The Qs get the rest of the CCG to focus on only eliminating the ghouls who continue to resist them.

:::

Years and years later, the new ward that Sasaki and Touka hid in at the beginning of this is all spruced up, and ghouls and humans live in peace inside of it, under certain rules, ex. humans donate their bodies to be eaten by ghouls upon death. The peacefulness and progressiveness of that ward is spreading to the others, and further; immigrants come from all over trying to live here, but so do some ghouls and humans looking for easy pickings.

Two ghouls are fighting each other, viciously. One of them with an ukaku kagune is clearly winning, and she is about to get the last killing blow in on the rinkaku-type ghoul until he flares another set of ukaku-kagune from his back and startles her into backing off. The ukaku-ghoul immediately starts screaming.

“No fair, you promised you wouldn’t use both of them if I didn’t use kakuja!”

Ken rolls his eyes. He pushes his mother’s old rabbit mask playfully onto the face of his little sister, Hikari, who argues that she is not that little, _stoooop_. Some ghouls approach, threateningly, and Hikari appears scared at first but it’s a ruse and she and Ken fight them all until they’re cowering on the ground.

They beg forgiveness and say they just wanted to be let into Anteiku and Ken is like, “Wow, yeah right, you LITERALLY just tried to attack me.” He’s about to turn them away when Touka shows up and extends a hand to them. She chastises Ken: “When people ask for help, we give it to them, no matter what. Everyone just wants to live a normal life.”

Sasaki catches up and is like, “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast at the cafe with Ayato-niisan and Arima-niisan and the rest,” and Hikari lights up and is like, “Is Saiko-neechan gonna be there too, is she gonna give me a new game,” and Sasaki is like “Yeah! I’m sure she’ll have something new for you. I think Takatsuki-san wanted you to read her new book too.”

Hikari adjusts her eyepatch that she wears so she can look as cool as Mutsuki-niichan, even though on her the eyepatch actually covers up her human eye.

And they all walk together down the street in the daylight.


	5. "Love Letters" (Haise & Qs Squad)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasaki gets closer to his new squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a tumblr anon asked:
>
>> do you have any love letter headcanons for Sasaki :3
> 
> and i thought of an idea, thooough it's not particularly romantic.
> 
> hope you're having a good day; enjoy!

When everybody first comes to live together at the Chateau, no one is really comfortable with each other, and no amount of puns or friendly greetings made on Sasaki's part can warm them.

He figures that they’re still just recovering from the surgery, but a week passes and everyone remains as gloomy and un-talkative and independent as the first day. Determined, he searches for others who know the Qs members, people who can teach them more about them all in general. Soon, he realizes that none of them have close friends or family members; all anyone can give him are rumors, and hearsay, and lukewarm smiles.

He returns home, thinking hard, eyes narrow. As usual, when he is troubled he turns to "reading," and that is how he reaches his solution. He rushes out and buys stationary and pencils, and begins leaving them little notes everywhere.

On everyone's doorknobs he tapes,  _Good morning!_

And on the mirrors,  _Do your best today!_

And on the front door,  _I made you some sushi for lunch, don’t forget it!_

There are notes and bad puns and scribbles everywhere: between the screens of Saiko’s DS, taped to the mirror of Shirazu's motorcycle, pinched in the cushion of Urie’s headphones, and in Mutsuki's uniform pockets.

As the days pass, he begins to hear them snort laughter at different parts of the house. (Urie doesn’t laugh, but he does increase the volume of his headphones to drown out his distaste, and Sasaki decides this counts as getting through.)

And one day, when Sasaki wakes up, there's a note on his front door that reads,  _Good morning, sensei_.


	6. "writer/illustrator AU" (Kaneki/Touka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touka is an illustrator, and Kaneki is a popular new writer of tragedies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a headcanon sent to me by [maplecat89](http://maplecat89.tumblr.com) on tumblr~ :')
> 
> hope you're having a good day!

Touka is an artist at a design firm, and is semi-famous for her children’s book illustrations (which always has her signature rabbit doodled somewhere).

One day she is leaving the cafe near her office when someone crashes into her and spills her coffee all over her. She is like, _SHIT_ , because she has an important meeting with some kind of really VIP new client today, so she tries to shake off the person’s frantic apologies so she can rush back home and change.

She ends up bursting into the office half an hour late and is even more shocked when she arrives because _the person who bumped into her at the cafe is here_.

“This is Kaneki Ken,” Rize-the-firm-director says.

“Who?” Touka asks.

“Ah, of course! Sorry.” Rize has a huge grin. “You would probably recognize him better by the pseudonym ‘Centipede.’”

Touka stares, and her expression is like, _Wow, are you SERIOUS,_ because Rize knows how much Touka doesn’t like this popular new author. His “creative process” basically involves writing down the most tragic shit he can think of and profiting off crushing people’s hearts.

And now, apparently, he is their client.

So anyway, Rize is like, “I know how exciiiiited you are to work with him,” and Kaneki is a little pale and starts to apologize again for the spilled coffee earlier, and Touka is suspicious because she assumed that the great Centipede would be antisocial and stoic but now he’s like, “I’m really sorry I made you latte.”

“… _Huh?_ ”

“O-oh. It’s, um, a joke. It’s okay, nevermind.”

Anyway, it turns out that they’re going to be put on this incredibly rush project: a light novel, for which he will provide the writing and Touka the illustration.

 _Okay,_ Touka thinks, _if it’s me that’s assigned to him, maybe he’s actually writing something happy this time._

Rize leaves them alone and they go over all the characters and settings and so on. Kaneki is really awkwardly sparing about the plot details.

“I don’t like sharing my work before it’s completely done,” he explains apologetically. But soon it becomes clear that Touka is going to draw all these really adorable and lovely characters and they’re all going to end up orphaned and disemboweled and loveless. She grits her teeth into a very stiff smile.

 _It’s okay,_ Touka thinks. _I just won’t get attached._

They have to meet a lot to coordinate on personalities and settings and design details. It’s complicated. Even though the deadline is really short (like ONE MONTH), and even though Kaneki’s mentor/editor Takatsuki Sen is breathing down his neck, Kaneki keeps trying to subtle encourage/urge her to change her style to be more detailed and mature.

 _“Let me handle it!”_ she snaps, over and over. “I’m the artist! How many times do I need to tell you?”

Aside from him being totally fucking annoying, everyone is anticipating that this book is going to be a huge hit, so they both are determined/stressed about putting in their best work. Like this is the sort of thing that could really make or break their careers: it’s Kaneki’s second series, and Touka’s first non-children’s-book work.

They work into the night and have a lot of coffee (though Touka kind of doubts Kaneki needs it, he can stay up until fucking 2am and still be as cheerful as if he just woke up). Touka doesn’t have many close friends and is estranged from everyone but her uncle, so it’s easy to spend basically 24/7 on her work. She doesn’t ask about Kaneki’s situation, but whatever it is, it allows him to work the same rigorous hours.

Halfway through to the deadline, Kaneki asks shyly if Touka would like to review his first draft, to which Touka replies, “No thanks.”

And Kaneki is so startled that he’s like, “W-what? _Why?_ ”

And she’s like, “It’s nothing personal. I’m just not interested in your writing.”

“What’s the matter with it?” he asks, and Touka is like, _Wow, I have so much to draw, I don’t want to deal with this right now._ She narrows her eyes on her current illustration and just says it bluntly.

“Writing sad things is lazy. Anyone can write something sad and make people depressed about it. People can make others feel sad without even _trying_. The really hard and admirable thing is when you can create something that makes people happy.”

He falls silent after this and she’s relieved that she has time to focus now but the next day he is still really quiet and even when she pokes him and brings him his favorite coffee (his third of the day) he just smiles and continues working without saying anything.

She’s like, _Shit. I broke Kaneki._ Because he is definitely not energetic until 2am anymore. Touka is really pained and tries to apologize for what she said but he just shakes his head and rubs his chin and says, “It’s okay, I understand where you’re coming from, you have a point.”

And Touka is so mad at herself, he is so transparent and as usual she is right and she hates it, it’s so easy to make people sad without even trying.

There’s just one week left, though, so there’s no time to hash out their emotions — especially since Kaneki is BLOCKED. SHIT.

“Didn’t you say that you had the whole story planned out?” Touka cries, and Kaneki cringes.

“I-I’m sorry…things…things just changed. Maybe helping you out a little will inspire me. Are there any little drawings I could do?”

“No! How many times do I need to tell you that I’m the artist? You just focus on writing!”

They only have a couple days left to work things out, so they sweat it out at the cafe. Touka feels guilty because it seems they’re spending all this time mostly chatting rather than trying to figure the story out, but she’s having so much fun and it’s so nice to not stress out that she just lets it happen. A day before the deadline, however, they stay so late at the cafe that they get kicked out, and Touka is like, “Fuck it, coffee isn’t working, let’s go drink something else.”

They get beers and at some point Kaneki asks her, “What kind of stories _do_ you like?”

And Touka starts to describe it but then shakes her head and says, “I’ll just show you.”

They end up stumbling into a manga cafe, which they realize is a perfect place to get inspiration and continue working. (It’s raining hard anyway — who wants to go home in that?) Touka shows him all her favorite shoujo stuff — the art style is so cute, and the stories make the reader’s chest so BUBBLY.

“When you read them,” Touka says, “everything is so _perfect,_ ” and Kaneki frowns, and her eyes flare.

“What? What was that for?”

“Nothing, it was nothing.” He’s rubbing his chin again. And then he bursts, “It’s just, I can’t believe that you think my writing is sad, when this stuff is even more depressing.”

And Touka is like, _“What?”_

“These stories” — he takes the manga from her and waggles it — “are _too_ perfect. They depict the sort of happy life that people will never, ever be able to live. How can you read something like this and feel anything but despair?”

So now Touka is the one that’s quiet. He has a point, sort of. She’ll never be able to live an exciting and happy and love-filled life the way characters do in books. But if she’s never going to have a life where she isn’t painfully alone, why not at least experience it vicariously?

Oh, fuck, Kaneki is looking at her. Did she say that last one out loud?

“Whatever,” she grumbles, and takes the manga back from him and continues paging through it. “Just get through your block.”

They settle into the booth, with Kaneki hunched over a notebook while Touka reads. The buzz takes her head over and she finds herself drifting into sleep and waking up again, over and over, unable to reconcile her exhaustion and her inability to get into a comfortable position. The booth is too small for her to do anything but curl up tightly, and she slurs out apologies when finds herself taking up the majority of the space. Every time she wakes up she sees Kaneki still stooped over the little booth table, and when she wakes up near morning she sees that her legs are across his lap and she is too relieved at how comfortable it is that she just sleeps again.

Then, she wakes up again, with a start. Kaneki is gone — no — Kaneki is coming back into the booth, his hair wet. He just finished using the shower facility. He hands her a can of coffee and Touka gasps, “Did you do it? Did you think of something?”

And he says, “Yes.”

For the first time in days he gives her that 2am smile and before she can stop herself she smiles back.

:::

From there there’s final editing, and handing off the finished designs to be reviewed and then printed. There’s so much going on that she doesn’t get the chance to say a proper goodbye after the manga cafe, and after working so hard together, her normal, solitary life feels strangely hollow and boring. She finds herself staying up until late hours without having any good reason to.

Rize gives her a selection of projects to take up next but Touka can’t feel anything for any of them and just selects one at random. In the margins of her sketchbooks, she continues sketching out his characters.

She checks the calendar every day, and as the date of the novel release party nears she gets really apprehensive. She buys a brand new dress but it turns out to be a very busy event and even though she keeps glancing over at him, one of them always seem to have people talking with them. At the end of the night, she can’t find him at all, and she tries to swallow down her disappointment.

 _He must have left,_ she thinks — and on her way out, she bumps into someone.

“Oh, please excuse me,” she says, and — it’s him. She’s been spying him in formal wear all night, but somehow, now, up close, the sight of him causes her cheeks to tangibly warm. She coughs.

“…hi.”

“Hi, Kirishima-san. Um,” Kaneki says, “congratulations.”

“You…you too.”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

The party is over and Kaneki’s mentor is calling him away, and he yells out _please just wait a moment,_ and then reaches into his coat.

“You, um, might have a copy already,” he says, “but…but would you like to have an autographed one? Maybe you can trade me your own autograph?”

“Oh,” Touka says, “um, sure,” and she fumbles for a pen and signs an extra copy he has, and takes the one that he gives her.

Then he is gone, and all the words she wanted to say — _Do you want to grab coffee sometime?_ — are still stuck in her throat. Once again, she is alone.

:::

Tragedies really aren’t her style. She doesn’t really like looking at her own art, either, once she’s finished. So she doesn’t open the book that he gives her until she gets home and stares at it and suddenly hungers for more words from him. She cracks it open and a sheet of paper slips out and slides across the room.

Touka’s heart races. She dashes after it.

 _To Kirishima-san,_ it reads, in the handwriting that she’s come to recognize.

_As I’m writing this, I can hear the rain pattering against the windows, with the same rhythm of people tapping on the loud keyboards in other booths. You’re asleep beside me, so I’m doing my best to write this without using the loud keyboard myself, even if it means that I can’t take these words back._

_(Well…I guess could just use another sheet of paper if I mess up…but…that phrase sounds too nice not to keep. Anyway.)_

_I’ve been thinking a lot about something recently — but haven’t been able to put it into words, even though that’s supposed to be my specialty. I think that my talent resides only in telling things that aren’t real; everything else always sounds clunky, and, ironically, fake. So I hope that I can express this properly._

_This is getting really long already…sorry._

_Firstly, I want to apologize if I caused you any stress. The truth is, I did have the whole story planned out, from the beginning. The only thing that I didn’t anticipate was that I’d have so much fun working with an artist whose work, I’d thought, was…overly simple. (Sorry. That was just what I thought at first. Obviously now my feelings are very different.)_

_(Maybe it isn’t obvious.)_

_(I hope it’s obvious now.)_

_What I mean to say is, you’re a fantastic artist. Since you won’t ever want to read it, please believe me when I say that no one else could have done this story justice, and I’m very grateful for your hard work. It has been an incredibly rewarding experience to collaborate with you, and I_

The next part has huge, snarled blocks of ink where he’s tried to scribble out words over and over.

 _I hope you understand what I mean,_ the letter continues, _if I say that I really hope that we can work together again._

More snarls. The lettering is tiny, now, and she holds the paper up, and squints, and reads, until her heart feels crushed.

:::

She finds him sitting by the window in the cafe.

“K-Kirishima-san,” he stammers, when he sees her, and then he falls silent, flushing. She sits down across from him, and shows him the last page of his letter. It has his signature on it, and — more importantly — a very messy scribble of a rabbit.

She licks her lips, and says it with an eye roll, as firmly as her trembling throat will let her.

“How many times do I need to tell you?”

:::

 _I’ve always written tragedies,_ the letter’s last line says.  _But, I think, if it’s with you…well, as you said, it’s hard. But maybe it would be possible to write a story that would make both of us happy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3503000/chapters/8652997). :)


	7. "writer/illustrator AU" part 2 (Kaneki/Touka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First kiss and first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part of [the writer/illustrator au](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3503000/chapters/8652952) with Touka and Kaneki, from an anon on Tumblr who asked for details about first time/first kiss.
> 
> hope you're having a good day!

under Takatsuki Sen’s recommendation, Touka and Kaneki attempt a romance for their next project, with Touka watching carefully to make sure Kaneki doesn’t estrange the characters for years or make them sacrifice themselves for each other or some other kind of depressing shit. Kaneki protests, though: “They’ll never know the happiness of being together if they don’t know what it’s like to be apart!”

eventually Touka gives up and just decides to focus on the art, except that she hasn’t ever really drawn people kissing. she’s having trouble illustrating a particular scene in the novel, which is frustrating, so she asks Kaneki to change the scene, and he’s like, “Why?”

she explains, “It’s too complicated to picture on my own, and I can’t find any good references.” she shows him her image search of sub-par photos, and he looks at them and then says, “Well, maybe we could ask people to pose it for us,”

and Touka is like, “Who could we ask?”

she doesn’t know anyone who could come over immediately, and Touka really needs to spend time drawing rather than scheduling meetings. Kaneki shifts around uncomfortably and it’s clear he probably knows  _someone_  that could pose it, so Touka pokes him — “Come on, just say it, who?”

and Kaneki says, “Um, I don’t know anyone…but…um…we…? Could do it? Maybe?”

“……..oh.”

“We don’t have to,” Kaneki says quickly, “I’m sorry, it just — maybe that’s weird.”

weird because they’re like…not dating, still? probably? at least, they’re not  _really_  dating (probably?). they’re just two people that work pretty well together.

“It’s not weird,” Touka tells him, “I mean, it’s just for the story, so it’s not like it’s…weird. Let’s try it. Just…um…tell me how the pose goes again.”

he instructs her to sit on his couch and begins arranging her. she’s a little stiff and her heart is starting to race a little as he sits beside her. he rests her hands on his chest, and puts one of his own hands on her waist. his other hand is holding a camera, which he is aiming at them.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Okay,” she responds quietly, and he swallows and licks his lips and then she leans forward and presses her mouth against his and pulls away.

it was like a millisecond of contact but they’re both blushing hideously.

“Was that good?” Touka asks, and Kaneki is like, “N-no — I mean — well, yes, it was good, but, but it doesn’t really match the scene, it needs to be — um — a little harder,” so Touka takes a deep breath and they reset their poses and she tries again, this time lingering a little more, and tipping her head. the camera shutter goes off half a dozen times and they jump back from each other and attempt to very casually look at the pictures and it turns out that half of them don’t even show the two of them, and the other half are blurry beyond recognition. it seems his hand was shaking.

“I-I’m really,  _really_ sorry,” Kaneki stammers, and Touka says, “It’s okay, it’s okay, we have the pose now so let’s just do it one more time.”

they go back to start position and Kaneki braces his camera arm a little on a column of books to help keep it steady. Touka kisses him again and the shutter sound flutters for like ten seconds before Kaneki stops. he just manages to get the camera down safely before grabbing her waist and dragging her on top of him and when they check the camera a couple hours later it turns out all the pictures are still blurry but it’s ok, Touka is fairly able to visualize the scene now.

:::

a month or so later, the book is almost completely done now, except for one scene. writing that single scene has taken up more time than writing all the other scenes combined, and Kaneki looks exhausted.

“Here,” Touka says, taking pity on him, “maybe I can help,” and she takes the draft from him, and Kaneki yells loudly and snatches the papers back, so fast that the edge of one cuts Touka’s finger open. she curses and he yells again and he sets the papers down on a table and rushes to find a first aid kit.

“I can help with the draft,” Touka repeats while he’s wrapping a band-aid around her finger.

“I…I’m really not sure that that’s the best idea.”

“Why not? Come on, we’re…partners.”

he grimaces. he spends another minute not answering, and then sighs, “Well, it’s the sex scene.”

oh.

“ _The_  sex scene? There’s only one?” Touka asks, trying to be teasing, and Kaneki rubs his head.

“Takatsuki-sensei told me it was the most terrible thing she’s ever read,” he mutters.

“I’m sure it can’t be  _that_ bad,” Touka says. after a little more wheedling he is convinced to hand her the draft. he waits, slumped, while she reads.

Touka coughs in an attempt to suppress her laughter as she goes on. Kaneki cringes. she straightens the papers when she finishes and Kaneki can’t even look at her.

“It’s not…the most  _terrible_  thing I’ve read,” she says. “I think you’re just being…too…detailed. About certain things. And it starts off really suddenly. I mean, if it was me, I probably wouldn’t get into that sort of mood  _that_  quickly, you know?”

“No,” he says miserably. “I don’t. I can’t think of any way to make this part escalate believably.”

“Well, maybe you should just start off with light touches first,” Touka tries. “This character hurt their hand, right? So maybe the other one can start there, kissing it or something. That would make a cute image.”

he blinks at her, and then his eyes roll upward, thoughtfully.

“And then,” Touka says, “you can make her touch them really lightly all along the long muscle in the forearm.”

“The…long…?”

“Right here. I always thought the skin over it was pretty sensitive.” Touka reaches and the place in question with the tip of her finger. Kaneki shivers and she says, “See?”

“…y-yeah.” he considers, and then leans forward. “Where else?”

“Where else? Well, I guess the inside of the elbow is pretty sensitive too.”

“Here?” He reaches out and presses the pad of his forefinger into her arm.

“Lightly,” Touka says, and he lets up on the pressure, and begins making a slow circle.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s…that’s…good.” Touka clears her throat. “You can also try kissing there.”

their eyes meet, and stay fixed as Kaneki comes closer to her, and kneels down on the ground; he closes them only when he brings her arm up to his mouth, and Touka sucks in a breath as Kaneki sets his lips against her skin, and suckles. oh wow, she feels dizzy. he is making his way down her arm, his tongue pressing lightly against the lines in her palm, his lips kissing her graphite- and ink-covered fingers.

he stops and looks up at her and Touka looks back, feeling breathless. he stands, sets his hands on either side of her face, and kisses her.

“Thank you,” he gasps, and grabs his draft, and runs off.

:::

when he comes out from his room an hour later Touka is like, “I can’t  _believe_  you, you are  _unbelievable_ ,” and Kaneki is like, “I’M SORRY, I’M REALLY SORRY, I just had to — before the feeling went away —”

and it takes a lot of coaxing but he gets the draft back into her hands and she reads. Kaneki fidgets as her eyes go back and forth. this time, there’s no smothered laughter. in fact, Touka doesn’t really have much of a reaction at all.

she sets the papers down.

“W-what do you think?” Kaneki asks.

“What do I think about  _what_? You cut it off right at the good part.”

his face turns red. “You just use your imagination for that part. It’s better that way.”

“Well,” she says, “I don’t want to use my imagination. I want you to show me.”

her tone is firm, and still a little salty from earlier. Kaneki swallows, and walks toward her.

“Okay. Well…um…it starts like this.”

he takes her bandaged finger and kisses it.


	8. Swoop (Kaneki & Hinami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinami asks Kaneki if she can help out with his raids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asked for by an anon who was basically like, "ch 29 feels, right?"
> 
> RIGHT. VERY RIGHT.

Kaneki is keeping her in the back.

He’d never admit it. And some cowardly little knot in Hinami’s chest makes her feel relieved that she doesn’t need to see what’s causing the crunch of kagune and the rupture of skin and the blood-chilling screams that she can hear even from a distance.

One day, though, the kagune and skin and screams that she hears are _his_ , and there is nothing she can do but cram her trembling palms against her ears. Hinami waits, pacing wildly, and an hour later, she throws the door open before the returning party even touches the knob.

“Nii-san!” she gasps. Even with her vision blurred by tears, she can perceive him bleeding, the droplets drumming on the floor only a little faster than her pulse.

“It’s nothing,” he says, “don’t worry,” and he’s right: in another hour or so, he’s already mostly healed. But.

“I’m really, really sorry,” she says quietly. “My count was off, wasn’t it? I didn’t hear that there was another one.”

“Hinami-chan,” Kaneki says gently. “It’s not your fault.”

She stares hard at her hands, which are tightening in her lap. The fabric of her dress bunches. She sucks in a breath.

“Next time,” she says quietly, “I want to be near the front.”

“No,” Kaneki says.

 _Thank goodness,_ Hinami thinks, before she can stop herself, and her knuckles tighten even further, with frustration. _No_.

She can’t keep staying out of sight like this — hiding and being protected while everyone else does their best. She makes herself open her mouth.

“ _No_ ,” Kaneki repeats.

This time there’s an edge in his voice — something she’s only heard when he’s talking to their enemies. The knot in her chest jumps up into her throat, and her eyes dart to his expression, which for an instant is — so incredibly cold.

Or — or it is just her imagination? A blink later and it’s gone, thawed into a smile that is so rare to see from him recently.

“You help out the best when you’re here,” Kaneki says. He rests a hand on her head. “I mean that. It’s not that I think you’re weak.”

Hinami sighs.

“Really,” he tells her firmly. “Just keep working at it. Okay?”

She frowns, then sighs again, and smooths out her dress, and nods.

“I just hate when you get hurt,” she admits. “And you’ve done so much for me. I hate…I just hate that I can’t do more.”

Kaneki gives her head one last pat and then leans back, propping himself up on his arms.

“Thanks for worrying about me. I appreciate it. But don’t write yourself off, okay? It might not be today, or even tomorrow…but I’m sure that one day, you’ll be there to swoop in from out of nowhere and scoop me up from certain death.”

That one makes her laugh, and seeing it, he laughs too. They tell each other goodnight, and Hinami retreats to bed. She closes her eyes, and listens as everyone’s breathing slows into the peaceful rhythm of sleep.


	9. "hanahaki au" (Shuu, Kanae, Touka, Kaneki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hanahaki AU" headcanons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon on tumblr mentioned hanahaki au to me and it sounded pretty tight :) warnings for emetophobia.

_shuu_

they emerge, petals fat and wide as his own tongue, dark and moist as blood. the edges of them perforated by the clap of his teeth, the bowls of them broad as begging palms. they pile and pool beneath well-sucked sockets and clavicles, and his chambers smell lovely.

:::

_kanae_

kanae likes to imagine this body, sometimes, like an arbor — the bones and muscle and spindle of it flourishing neatly to its shape. but one day, the ache rises up beyond the pit of its belly — higher — higher — clawing through rib, esophagus. kanae drags away from training and in the bathroom checks for blood, only to watch droplets of red collect into the creases of an empty, shaking palm. it takes a while, then, a lot of tears and water. but eventually it’s coughed it up, rattling, into the sink: a bare, thorny stem.

:::

_touka_

she can’t even make it to the bathroom — in panic, she crams her hands over her mouth. it’ll be the swiss roll, she thinks, or maybe, it will be the onigiri — but all she feels pass through her lips is velvet. when she looks down, the only thing between her fingers is a glistening ruffle, gently uncurling. white and stippled with scarlet.

:::

_kaneki_

it takes. a long time. for him to stop bleeding. diluted suppressants keep observers safe while his muscles yawn sluggishly back across the gapes, while nerves and veins squirt back into his face’s hollows. once he is whole again, he is silent — for an instant — and then he begins to writhe and pant on the table, black nails raking his belly. he heaves and at first they think it is more blood — but — what blood clots like this? in delicate curls and filaments — in eyebright ruby — splattering across the cold steel like finest lace.


	10. nothing (Sasaki/Touka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did. (Touka/Sasaki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: anagapesis (the feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did) and Tousaki.
> 
> aaaAAHh….just reading that prompt made my heart crack, haha.

_I have faith in him._

She just…

Never thought that he would return like…this. The way that he is now.

And with…so many other people.

Touka sets the coffee down. In front of him, the cup clatters, in a way that seems imperceptible to him. His eyes go glassy, and she holds her breath, and—

:::

Afterward, she searches for her handkerchief, and then curses and rubs her eyes with her fingertips. She doesn’t do it fast enough to avoid Nii-san seeing, and he hovers awkwardly, and then hands her a fresh dishtowel that Touka crams her face into.

“He seems happy,” he offers, and Touka takes a breath.

“Y-yeah,” she says. “I’m glad.”

:::

She poured years into this cafe. He returns and she points him to the books,  _the_  books, and he takes note of them politely. He sips his coffee, also politely, without seeming to realize that it’s his favorite kind.

 _I’ve decided that I’m going to make him a place where he can belong._ That’s what she said; that was her plan. It sounded so selfless, so pure.

She watches him as he eats with the other Doves, as he laughs together with them about something he’s said. Some kind of joke that she’s never heard Kaneki ever say.

_I’ve decided that I’m going to make him a place where he can belong._

“You’re quiet,” Nii-san says, and Touka grimaces at him. He’s the last person that should be complaining about such a thing.

“It’s unlike you,” he protests. “And it happened that first day he came in.”

Touka shrugs.

“Are you still going to stick with your plan?” he asks.

Touka pushes a wet cloth, hard, across the counter.

“Yes,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I?”

:::

Sometimes, she spots them around town, at other cafes. Their favorite is the one that’s nearest their office, one that is right beside a bookstore. He always has cups stacked up beside him. She doesn’t look for long, but it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t seem to notice either way. He’s always prodding at his students, or pointing something out to them, or protesting, or gesturing wildly.

He still does come in sometimes, though. He always orders the same thing. They communicate with brief smiles and bowing heads. Touka brings out the drink. Sometimes they chat — about the weather, about his students, about the specials that are available that day, which he never tries. And then she turns back.

:::

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Nii-san announces suddenly, one day, after Sasaki Haise leaves, and Touka blinks.

“…thanks,” she replies.

“If you don’t mind…” Nii-san trails off a little, and then sighs, and forces himself to continue. “What happened? The day that he came in.”

“Oh,” Touka says. “Well…”

She hesitates, and then just says it.

“Nothing.”


	11. desire (Sasaki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autolatry (the worship of one’s self) and Haise Sasaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **this chapter is M-rated.**
> 
>  
> 
> prompted from Tumblr! hope you're having a good day :)

On one hand, he’s definitely had much better control recently. On the other hand, this is definitely not how kagune should be used. And on the last hand…

Well, he doesn’t really have any other hands. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?

 _“Sasaki-sensei,”_  his students laugh sometimes,  _“you’re never going to land a date with that kind of humor,”_  and Haise laughs back, as if is this is something he’s never considered.

It doesn’t matter that students have sometimes confessed to him red-faced after finals, or that, very occasionally, an investigator will pull him aside and murmur an invitation spurred (no doubt) by morbid curiosity.

In the end, the only thing he’ll ever be is  _SS-Rank Haise._

A half-ghoul. Meant only to become either an investigator that will surpass Arima, or — failing that — a suitcase.

It would be a disservice to…be with someone, when his life is destined to end in battle and tragedy.

…so, that’s why…it isn’t that bad.

Right?

At night, after wrapping up training and dinner and saying goodnight, he retreats to his room. Changes. Lies down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. And then, he fishes out a novel from the bottom of his bag.

It’s not always the same novel, but it might as well be. Even if he hasn’t read it through, he can usually skim to the parts that he’s interested in. Once he’s there, he swallows, and hesitates just a little more before pulling down his boxers, and pulling up his shirt.

 _“I miss you,”_ he reads.

_“I — I missed you, too.”_

Sudden lunges — bodies meeting, both familiar and foreign — hard breaths. People that have parted for years and meet again to crash desperately into each other, wherever they happen to be. The tables or counters of cafes. The shadows or altars of chapels.

Is this Kaneki Ken’s fetish, or Sasaki Haise’s?

Either way, it always does the trick. Haise starts with a couple quick and unnecessary pumps, and then emits his kagune. Just a thin tendril at first. Enough to wrap around his cock twice, and give a good squeeze that has him taking a deep, steady breath.

The first time, the experience was — lackluster. Almost literally grating. He looked at himself and felt — really, seriously ill. Was he really doing this? Weren’t there enough things the matter with him?

But in the end, his deeper desires kept rising over him. Washing over him. Crushing.

Now he’s perfected it. He holds the book with both hands so he can turn the pages as he caresses, reading so deeply and stroking so gently that he leaves Kaneki Ken and Sasaki Haise and whoever else behind.

_“I…waited so long for you.”_

He changes the consistency of the cells so they’re melty, so they keep their shape but feel almost aqueous and yet are dense enough to hold a tissue. He wraps his cock up completely, encasing himself in the natural warmth of it, and squeezes. Slow, at first. Then, faster, to match the inevitable bucking of his hips when he closes his eyes, and shakily drops the books.

A mouth on his mouth. Someone else’s moan. Arms, and legs, around him.

He climaxes, belly-down, burying his face into his pillow. Or on his back, palm clapped over his mouth. He spasms, eyes shut, sheets rustling, kagune melting and puddling on his body, embracing him with heat.

Afterward, everything is always a little hazy. He never quite feels like himself, and for a moment, he’s lost again, unseeing, in a hospital room. Newly broken from some unknown egg, with no knowledge of what he is, or his fate.

_“Just a little longer. Please, can we just — be together just a little longer?”_

_“…okay. But just…just a little.”_

He wraps his arms around a pillow, keeps his eyes closed, and indulges himself.


	12. "some time later" (Kaneki/Touka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> done as a small practice, written after TG:re:105 :')

Blood browns his fingernails. His right eye is tinged with scarlet — from exhaustion, probably — or sorrow. His hair is a mess, no longer slicked back and yet still not exactly the way it was before either. And still he can muster a smile for her.

“Touka-chan.”

It’s been forever later and somehow part of her had hoped that maybe he’d forget. Or at least remember at a time that made her feel a little less like a jerk.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,” Touka admits. She keeps her gaze carefully fixed away from Nishiki, who even now finds the time to snort with amusement; and Nii-san, who starts to leave and then backpedals jerkily, watching her.

“It’s fine,” Kaneki says. Well, not Kaneki, really. _The King._ It feels like there’s a difference. “Please go ahead and rest.”

They exit.

Alone. Across from each other, at a table, the very same one at which Sasaki Haise once sat. Touka keeps her gaze downcast, picks at the table, stomach squirming.

“You should rest too,” she tries. “We can talk later.”

“It’s alright,” he says. “I’m ready. What did you want to tell me?”

Touka raises her head, finally. Brushes her hair, eyes him. Once upon a time, Kaneki would have swallowed and flailed beneath her gaze. Another time, he wouldn’t have met it at all. And yet another time, he might not have even noticed.

Presently, Kaneki’s smile remains eminent, benevolent, unwavering.

So much time. She always thinks to herself that she can do it, that she can finally bridge the lifetimes that have passed with the right words, and always the syllables fail her before she can unknot them from her throat. Touka’s hand fists. She stands.

Before either of them can stop her, she moves. Crosses their distance with a single step. Raises her arms, and wraps them around his shoulders, and draws him against her.

Kaneki stiffens, and Touka grimaces, and grips him tighter. His head presses to her apron, and, he doesn’t remove it. A breath passes between them. Then he presses, shifts, hides his face against her. His arms raise around her. He embraces her back, growing slack, wordless.

Around them, the cafe breathes — fridges humming, walls settling, some vent somewhere sighing and letting out a purr. Touka takes a deep breath.

“Welcome back,” she says, finally.

He doesn’t move; he doesn’t make a noise. But after a while his fingers begin to grip her shirt; and his shoulders, slightly, shake.


	13. "haircut" (Urie/Saiko)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gettin super into urie/saiko ////// i have some other small bits [here](pseudocitrus.tumblr.com/tagged/saiuri)!

After Maman left, Saiko's hair started getting...unkempt.

She does her best to keep it in shape but honestly there was a lot of it. One evening, after a particularly frustrated bout of cursing that reached him even through his headphones, Urie looks up. His footsteps creak as he makes his way to the bathroom. The door is ajar — he pushes it open — Saiko is there, with hair in frayed out, in knots.

Urie is silent. His surprise is implicit.

 _What the_ ….. _HOW._

Saiko mumbles back.  _“_ I don’t know…” 

She sniffs, in a way that clearly isn’t just about the hair.

Urie whisks the brush away from her, with a sigh. (There is no one else to do it.) They wrestle a little longer, with Saiko’s whines becoming pouts and finally shrieks when the brush’s teeth break rather than yield. Saiko lifts a piece of hair that used to be a ponytail and is now something kind of like a mace.

She mumbles something.

“What?”

“I said,” she repeats, “ _chop it.”_

They search the drawers of the bathroom. There aren’t any scissors here, somehow. From downstairs, even the kitchen knife is mysteriously missing. (Urie makes a note to tell Sasaki to replace it. Then he makes a note to remind himself to replace it.) Finally, Urie sits her down in the center of the empty living room, and flexes his arm.

This is a terrible misuse. But maybe good practice, for delicate work. His kagune snakes out, different than usual, a small thing, like a razor.

“Hold still,” he says.  _Or else_ , he could add, but there’s no use for it. Saiko takes in a breath, and trusts him.


	14. "autograph" (Arima/Eto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arima attends Eto's first book signing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a much older work i polished up ~~

When Eto’s first book is published – she knew it was kind of popular, but – the reservations for her first signing session fill up immediately, the room that’s booked for it is  _huge_. She tells Arima at the shrine, loudly, practically puffing her chest, and Arima just watches her. finally, he speaks.

“Who is going?”

“Aren’t you listening? I just told you. A lot of people.”

“That sounds good,” Arima tells her.

Then he says, “Were you able to give the book to your father?”

All at once, her facade crumples, into a furious frown, a snarled snap.

“What does that matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t mean anything,” Arima replies, unperturbed, and with those words he does it. Scoops out the tiny wriggling thing that she was trying so hard to bury in her chest.

 _I suppose it doesn’t mean anything_.

She’ll be there, showing her face for the first time, to humans. to ghouls, too. Fans or not,  _writers_  or not, in the end, they are all the same. Stupid animals putting one foot in front of the other, fingers and teeth searching and clinging to curls of shining smoke.

 _I suppose it doesn’t mean anything_.

They’ll be looking at her, and it won’t be different than any time before. She’ll be by herself. The bile rises in her throat, again. The only existence more abhorrent than the lot of them is –

“You said all the reservations are gone?” Arima asks.

Eto huffs.

“That’s unfortunate,” he says. “I would have liked to come.”

:::

In the end, she works it out, with Shiono-san. For some reason, the morning of, she is seized with apprehension, and ends up peeling money from her bank envelope in exchange for a trim of her bangs and a tube of lip gloss that makes her grimace just to look at. She ends up nibbling it all off in the first fifteen minutes, and at the end of the allotted hour, the heat on her face is no longer from apprehension but from a frustration.

 _Whatever_ , she tells herself, handing a book back to the next person in line. _I suppose it doesn’t mean anything_.

A lot of things could have come up. Some stupid Dove mission, some stupid new ghoul, maybe he even just forgot because he’s such a giant, degenerate airhead.

These thoughts are boiling so powerfully that she hardly notices that the shadow of the last person in line is larger than the rest.

“Excuse me, Takatsuki-sensei.” Arima hands the book over. Eto stares at him. For a moment, she actually thinks, _Takatsuki-who?_

She must have been staring for longer than expected, because Shiono comes over from putting away the signboard to tap her on the shoulder.

“I apologize for intruding, but, Takatsuki-san, could you please hurry? The room needs to be prepared for the next event.”

“Of course.” Eto opens up the book and, when Shiono isn’t looking, scribbles inside of it, then quickly shuts it and gives it back.

:::

Arima takes it.

They bow at each other and then part, like strangers. He leaves, finally. The whole past hour, he spent overhearing people talking in line, and watching “Takatsuki-sensei.” She didn’t look to have exhibited much discomfort at all, which is…good. She beamed affectionately at one fan after another. In the end, when he arrived at her table, she didn’t spare him the same expression.

When he is alone, he opens the book. “Takatsuki Sen,” a person proven now to have the ability to communicate powerful feelings with simple words, wrote barely anything inside. Just:

_to Arima_

_–Eto_


	15. "purikura" (Ui /& Hairu)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hairu always wants to take pictures with Ui at the photo booths.

Hairu drags Ui’s old ass to literally every purikura they pass, literally, it doesn’t matter if they’re on duty or not, if Hairu sees it, she’s going for it.

“It’s not fun by yourself!” she protests when Ui tells her to just do it on her own. She is shockingly stubborn. He learns inevitably that, rather than spend the next hours arguing and pouting, it’s much easier to step into the booth for a couple minutes of too-loud music and high-pitched voices booming in his ear.

Still. He poses grudgingly; he doesn’t make faces, except sometimes when his unlit cigarette is about to fall out and he has to purse his lips a bit to keep it in; he exits as soon as cued. Hairu becomes very good at decorating all the photos on her own within the time given while Ui lights up outside.

“Done?” Ui asks, when Hairu comes out.

“Yup.” She shows him the stickers, beams at them. Ui takes the cigarette out of his mouth and exhales.

“Haven’t you outgrown purikura already?”

“Outgrown! No way! I could never do them at all as a kid.” She pockets them carefully, making sure they don’t get bent. “So I’m making up for it now. I want to do at least — at least a thousand.”

“A thousand.” Ui rubs his forehead.

“A thousand at  _least_. speaking of which. Do you think arima will ever do one with us sometime?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Ui tells her. “Leave him out of your childish games.”

“They’re not childish.” But she isn’t fazed at all. She considers, and then hands him one of the sheets. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“Yes,” Ui says, as he has said every time. “I’m sure.”

“ _Are you sure_?”

Her voice always hits him like this, out of the blue, a punch to his gut. He is unanchored. For long moments his body will be trapped elsewhere, a memory that has no business being more real than his present life, which he is currently spending over Hairu’s emptying desk.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting.  _More_. Maybe candy or bread wrappers thoughtlessly discarded in the drawers. Had she ever been that thoughtless at all? Or is this something that he is only making up, a vision of her that will soon supplant the person that she…….was?

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting.  _More_. Something. He brought a box to fill with her things and it isn’t even halfway full. He is supposed to write on a clipboard everything he finds but there’s nothing worth mentioning. Eventually he found a single plain notebook, unreasonably thick, and when he picked it up dozens of sheets of tiny photos tumbled out, which reqUired him to pick each one up individually. Only half of the sheets are stickered into the notebook. The other half are still loose.

 _“Come on, take one. Just one!_ ”

He starts to write it onto the clipboard:  _77 sticker sheets. B_ ut he can’t finish.

Instead, he pockets them. He drops the box and clipboard off without event. At home, he spreads them all out. Seventy seven. He doesn’t notice his hand shake when he lifts up a new cigarette, even when the cigarette misses his mouth the first time.

_“It’s not fun by yourself!”_

A spring set, with flowers. A Halloween one with stickers of ghosts. One they had done where Arima’s eyes, bespectacled, had been spared the treatment of airbrushing. The half-dozen they’d done at Christmas, when Ui been in a good mood and he’d converted a five-thousand yen bill into coins so they could make peace signs at every single machine in the parlor. Ash drops onto one of the sheets, and he hastily smudges it away with his sleeve.

He can’t remember making any particular expression for these pictures. In fact, he recalls keeping as stoic a face as possible, or even scowling, as if this might stop her from dragging him into booths in the future. He can’t remember ever being happy to take any of them. But somehow, in more than one of them, he’s smiling.


End file.
